


The Truth Is In The Echo

by taintedidealist



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 09:39:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2305133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taintedidealist/pseuds/taintedidealist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A string of murders in Storybrooke point toward Regina, but Emma is struggling to believe that the Mayor has turned into the murderous Evil Queen again. Against the town’s wishes Emma works with Regina to clear her name and find the true killer. Spoilers: Set after 2x09 “Queen of Hearts and re-imagines large plot points of 2x10 “A Cricket Game”. No Hook. No Cora. That dried up bean just didn't get restored, darn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When You Kill Upon a Star

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abandonedangel85](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abandonedangel85/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Truth Is In The Echo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2308724) by [abandonedangel85](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abandonedangel85/pseuds/abandonedangel85). 



> Thank you for making the art to go along with this [abandonedangel85](http://archiveofourown.org/users/abandonedangel85/profile), thank you again for picking out my story. 
> 
> Thank you to the moderators of SQBB, my troupe of friends allowing me to talk vaguely about this story for the summer, and my beta [k8eistrouble](http://archiveofourown.org/users/k8eistrouble/profile) for arguing with me, laughing with me, and making this story what it turned into.

The rain hit the metal tables outside Granny’s like an absent minded drummer. A rat-a-tat reminds her the weather in Storybrooke could rarely decide on a season other than perpetual fall with a sprinkling of snow. Summer, she thinks, must have happened while she was climbing a bean stalk, running from ogres, and struggling to maintain her hair care.

 

Emma takes a long steady breath, centering herself after an evening and diner full of well-intentioned pats on the back and words of good cheer. It was exhausting.

 

She corrects herself. _They were exhausting_.

 

Her parents had bustled Henry off to bed earlier as she hid at the corner of the counter trading stories with Ruby. The waitress’ makeup was lighter, the integration of Red changing the way she held herself. Shoulders were stronger, the smile easier, but Emma was sad to see the flirting had reduced in this new version of Ruby. It was telling though that Red preferred the name the curse had given her.

 

Emma wonders if Ruby thought of Storybrooke as a witness protection program of sorts, except the one she was seeking protection from was herself.

 

She pulls the sweater around her waist, cinching it tighter to keep out the slight breeze as a pair of leaves dance at her feet. The syncopated motion of the foliage in direct contrast to the beats of the raindrops.

 

Emma runs her hand over her head slicking the drops into her locks and she gives a small smile. She loves rain, the noises of puddles and the way people change as they walk through it. Some irritated at the mere thought of a change in the weather others embracing the folly of an idea to stay dry. She admits to playing in puddles still as the toe of her foot dips into one in the sidewalk as she turns toward the loft.

 

The pitter patter of her foot joins in with the staccato notes from the metal tables as the rustling leaves bring a sort of music to the evening.

 

She chuckles letting out a shuffle step learned from a now cloudy memory of two months of tap before moving to the group home.

 

Emma turns for a moment toward Mifflin Street and wonders if Regina plays in the rain too before shaking her head. She turns back toward her parents apartment and fantasizes about a night spent on a real bed, without twigs and bugs as companions and wistfully decides she might finally sleep well.

 

Well, Emma thinks, and without Aurora's snoring too.

 

* * *

 

She misses the stomping noises upstairs as Henry would lament over the injustice of his bedtime. He would always record in a sort of beleaguered oratory how Ava was able to stay up past the witching hour.

 

Regina merely answered him that it was too bad that he was not born a witch. His eyes would roll in an over exaggerated manner, his posture falling in on itself in his defeat before he would stand up tall and counter, “Not all witches are girls.”

 

She would smile and ruffle his hair, “Right as always, but alas you are my sweet prince today, tonight, and tomorrow.” A kiss dropped onto the crown of his head and she would allow herself a moment to breathe him in before turning his shoulders to his room.

 

Calling over her shoulder as she retreated, “After all, we both know you’ll be reading under your covers until you hear the third step creak.”

 

She misses him.

 

The wind causes the french doors to rattle as Regina holds the wine glass against her chest. A jangling of the window panes reminds her that since time started again she might need to invest in Gepetto inspecting the house as things did not simply reset themselves in the morning.

 

Her mind wanders thinking of the details now that the clock kept ticking forward. The bank accounts would start to whittle away as commerce righted itself. The budgets would need to be aligned at City Hall, the school updated to meet the needs of a self aware populus.

 

Unless, she pauses, unless the citizens of the town wanted to jump down a well and forgo this world for the one where they had border wars and disparity of wealth.

 

She snorts before taking a long sip of the deep red wine, the smell of oak and spice filling the air. Perhaps the forest was not as different as she thought, although online shopping was a definite plus in her estimation.

 

And Henry.

 

And even Emma.

 

Regina plucks at the silk blouse she still wore from the dinner at Granny’s. She dressed in a shirt to match her feelings, the red of a happy heart, beating again.

 

She was always one for symbolism. Something she knew she took from her Mother.

 

Her image reflects back at her in the window, distorted a bit in the imperfections of the glass. Her mother who Emma had defeated, who Emma had met.

 

Regina wonders as the soft rain clouds clear, if Emma would always find ways to learn all the secrets of her past and still try to see the woman behind the story.

 

It is irritatingly charming of her, Regina muses, as an unconscious grin works its way up her face.

 

* * *

 

The door was heavier than she remembered from this afternoon or perhaps it was just with more caution that Emma walks into the flat hoping to not incur a second scarring from her parents.

 

She squints into the darkness and is happy to make out sleeping forms.

 

The warm glow of a lamp filtered in from the lounge area and she peeks at the couch to see Henry sprawled half on and half off of it. It was as if his limbs could not stop growing even as he slumbered.

 

Emma tries to think back to climbing out of the well and holding him close to her. How he tucked into her side, had the boy sprouted upward like a gangly vine during her trek in the forest?

She bends down lightly gathering his arm before placing it back on his chest. The snort muffled as he turns into the back of the couch bringing his leg back onto it. His shoes are still on his feet, caked with mud and bits of hay, a telling story in the soles.

 

Emma edges the sneakers off his feet and holds her breath knowing that a teenage boy’s feet hold a sleeping curse more powerful than any Regina could concoct.

 

Sitting on the floor Emma feels the chill of the rain still on her skin as she starts to realize she can take another shower.

 

More importantly, an undisturbed shower without hands pounding on the door as they request to use the toilet.

 

Emma climbs the stairs to gather her contradictory robe; a comfort and a fluffy dream to her, while to others a ratty piece of filth. She had caught Mary Margaret twice trying to _give_  it to the second-hand store as Emma rescued it from the cardboard box of doom stating very calmly, “Like hell.”

 

Before she loses sight of Henry she sighs and thinks again of the watery eyes of his mother and her, no doubt, three and a half bath home with no one pounding on the door telling her to hurry up.

 

Her heart aches thinking of the neverending circle of taking family away from each other that Snow and Regina have heaped on one another. Hopefully one day, Emma hopes they’ll be able to give family back.

 

* * *

The gloves fit tight. She normally prefers to do her killing with bare hands. It feels more personal, but from what she had witnessed in this world earlier, they could track her by her fingerprints. Dust and grime left clues to the detectives; she was not ready for them to pull back the curtain, yet.

 

The dalmatian still shimmered of blue magic; caught in the middle of a warning bark. If the oblivious Doctor learned to speak with creatures he would have heard the true warning Pongo issued before she cast the spell.

 

She turns to the mirror and smiles at the image greeting her. The red slash of lipstick grows wider in a cunning smile. She runs her hands through the thick black hair, her eyes flutter shut as a mix of pleasure and pain flits over her face.

 

Her eyes open again taking in the form before her. "I missed seeing you." It’s a truth and shred of vulnerability in the quiet of the room the only she and perhaps Pongo can hear.

 

Or maybe someone else.

 

A short burst of laughter bubbles out of her as she calls to the mirror, "Sidney are you there?"

 

The mirror does not waver. Instead the vision of Regina Mills looks back at her.  An eyebrow arches and her shoulders drop in a visage of disappointment, "Pity, guess I have to count on the other mangy dog in town then."

 

She turns toward the door and steps over the prone form of one Dr. Archibald Hopper. His body lays on the rug, reminiscent of a figure taking a quick forty winks. His glasses still perched on his face waiting. The outline of her hands rest around his neck in purple bruises as she had strangled his manipulative words into silence.

 

Tugging the gloves down on her hand she sneers at him.

 

"The stars were just not lined up for you tonight, cricket."

 

Her fingers thumb through the cabinets, pulling out two manila folders bursting at their seams with scattered papers. “Just a little light reading tonight then.”

 

She looks back at Pongo, his eyes awake, focusing on his fallen friend. She can feel the pain he must be enduring. In the next moment she feels a twinge of remorse. “He left me no choice.”

 

Turning from the office she closes the door behind her and makes her way down the steps. They groan. She wonders if the wood is alive as well and mourning for the Doctor. As she pushes through the door to the sidewalk she hears the heels clack against the concrete.

 

But she’s most happy to see Ruby Lucas is cocking her head to the side and watching her leave.

  
She hadn’t left a fingerprint, but she was able to patch together a lead even without the magic mirror she was planning on. 


	2. Red Right Hand

 

“Well?” he asks lightly.

The grit of his boots seem to crackle as he shifts his weight from one hip to the other. Emma’s not sure if he had always planted his feet like the spitting image of a televised deputy sheriff. It was like he had a gun belt strapped around his waist, the off-kilter stance of his hips and the way his hands sat at his belt buckle told a story.

Oh, Emma realizes, no, he’s nervous for Regina.

It’s an interesting note of concern for David to be nervous for Regina and not nervous of her, maybe the pieces of the Nolan that were left behind were not all weak. He cared about her in a way that she knew Prince Charming never would.

“I got it.”

Emma’s finger reaches for the doorbell before it retreats back into a fist. She takes a breath and her shoulders shake in humor, “The doorbell feels so…”

“Cheap?” David supplies.

She tilts her head in thought, her bottom lip poking out for a moment, “Informal.”

The large white door is pulled back as Regina’s arm sweeps out to the both of them. “I was not sure if this comedy routine was going to continue through my breakfast so I thought I’d just invite you both in.”

“Actually,” Emma pauses.

Regina’s eyebrows jut up, her forehead crinkling in question, “Am I supposed to finish that dear?”

“Regina,” David cleared his throat, “we need you to come down to the station.”

Emma’s fists are jammed into her pockets, “We have some questions.”

Her body leans against the door frame, something just melts out of her and Emma is not sure what it is until she speaks.

“I told you before. Gold convinced me that it was best to seal the well and--”

“No,” Emma interrupts, “I believe you about the well. This is about something else, I think you’ll have some information.”

Throwing her hands up in frustration Regina shakes her head, the perfectly coiffed hair fluttering around her shoulders like a shampoo commercial. “Can’t we do this here? I just finished making breakfast.”

It took a moment before Emma felt that Regina’s eyes were finally on her and she could understand the gravity of the situation. 

“Henry?”

Emma shook her head, “No, he’s safe.” 

She watches as Regina swallows deeply, trying to keep her emotions in check, “My mother?”

It was a soft whisper and Emma could hear the fear behind it leaking through the syllables.

“No, Gold did a sweep this morning there is no trace of her in Storybrooke.”

Regina nods, her hands smoothing down the red blazer before tugging on the edges to bring the veneer back on her face.

“Regina.” Emma says easily more than one question tied up in the name.

The door pulls shut behind her as Regina softly kicks her heels in front of her. “Certainly Sheriff.”

Emma falls into step beside her with David bringing up the rear and that’s when she feels Regina tense beside her.

She looks at her, and Emma takes in a breath as she looks so much younger in an instant. “I don’t want to ride in the back, please.”

Emma shoots her what she hopes is a reassuming smile, “She’s not back Regina.”

The passenger door opens with a groan in the slightly rusted hinges as Regina settles into the seat. She smooths out her skirt for a moment and looks back at Emma, “You almost hope she is though right? Because then whatever this is about you would know is not me.”

Her mouth works open to form a response before David shuts the door and looks at her, “You’re letting her work us before we even get there.”

Emma rounds the car and coldly looks at David before, “You know this is a crock of shit.” 

He shrugs, “We can’t be certain.”

“Certainty is always best found through an interrogation though right?” Emma roughly yanks at the door handle and gets into the vehicle.

* * *

The folder flips open as David flicks the photographs at her in a three-quarter time. Emma keeps her eyes on Regina’s face and sees the surprise. Slowly the realization clicks in at who she is seeing in this waltz of death.

The questioning was going well too.

"He’s.... is he?" She takes a deep breath, it shook belaying her nervousness. "Is Pongo okay?."

The door to the room flew open, banging against the wall loudly as an accusatory finger flung toward Regina. It seems that Snow White did not pay attention to Emma’s quiet dictation on how she would be present and what she needed to do.

None of which was to be in the room and to presently be yelling at the person of interest.

"Just like something you'd do Regina!"

"Trust me Snow White when I say this, I would not hide behind a just death."

The calm of Regina’s voice clues Emma into how often accusations must have been hurled at her throughout the year.

Her eyebrow raises in challenge, "You never dirtied your own hands."

Regina's posture straightens, the back stiffening as her shoulders roll back, "And yet my heart darkened all the same."

"But this time--"

The metal legs of the chair squeal against the concrete floor as Emma points to the King and Queen of Terrible Procedure. “You and you, follow me now.” She turned back, “Regina-”

“I’ll be here.”

* * *

She moves her feet along the bullpen area of the station. The sickening sucking noise of a floor always sticky no matter how _many_ times Spratt Cleaning says they mopped, grates on her nerves. Emma was starting to suspect that they were using syrup as the base of their cleaning products.

She looks at the holding cell, it seemed flimsy, but had held more of the populous of Storybrooke in her time here than she thought it could.

At least crime was non-existent during the curse’s reign, the two small eight by ten feet squares serving as a drunk tank for those who were not dealing well with two lives sitting side by side.

"I still think we should hold her." Snow interrupts Emma's thoughts. Her petite arms crossing in a more effective 'judging mother' pose than many of her foster mothers before her.

She slid her vision over her mother's frame, she was on edge, muscles taut and ready for a fight. Emma wonders if she had even relaxed since they arrived back or if being a part of this world means you are always on the lookout for the next foe to crash through your happiness.

As she takes in her stature Emma finds her own lips pushing into a tight smile. She can actually relate to this part of her mother, the distrustful detective looking for the con, because she used to be both things. A bail bondsperson had to wrap up every bit of truth into a package and serve it to the mark, she had always been a con, she just worked for the system instead of against it.

"I trust her." Emma states again clearly.

She can hear the argument start in the breath Snow takes, "No, it's not a debate. I know liars. I am a liar."

"Regina lies too."

Emma nods, glancing over her shoulder at the interrogation room, where David is finishing taking Regina's statement. "I know, but she's not."

She looks back at Snow and holds her gaze for a moment before rolling her eyes, "At least this time."

The door creaks open and Regina is examining her fingertips at the smudges of ink.

"Thank you for letting David process the prints."

Regina nods curtly, "I suppose it would be best to have all of the villains on file."

"Regina," the tiredness leaks through as Emma's thumb slips through a belt loop. The hand fanning out in apology, "you know that's not what we think."

She is corrected quickly, "Not what you think perhaps," she looks between the stalwart couple. David's arm now looped easily around Snow's shoulders, "but we both know if--"

She stops, glancing down for a moment and then back up, shaking her hair slightly as if a pieces was out of place, "I could stay here."

That cinched it in Emma's opinion. Archie's killer was not in this room.

"No, I'll take you home. We're done here."

She nodded to her parents as her hand lightly hit the small of Regina's back to lead her into the hallway.

* * *

"It's irresponsible, Emma is being irresponsible!" Snow huffs as Ruby cracks her eyes open.

They were always different in this way, Snow an effervescent morning lark and Red a prowling night owl. Wolf, she corrects in her head, a night wolf.

Her hand wavers in the air, moving slowly down, "I need you to move the terror alert down to a yellow."

"Ruby," Snow scolded, "Archie is dead."

Nodding Ruby tugs the stiff plastic lining off of the tables, the collection of rain dripping onto the porch floor. All the better to sweep up for later. "I'm aware. Pongo's upset. I'm upset, but the yelling could be reduced to some form of hushed accusation of Emma's lack of Sheriff-ing."

Snow nods primly, her hands worrying together for a moment before she throws them up in the air, "but it's irresponsible. You said you saw Regina leaving Archie's apartment."

"Yes," Ruby agrees, "but I didn't smell her."

Snow's eyebrows furrow together, confused, "What do you mean?"

"Just what I said," Ruby rolls the covers together placing them on a resting area. She looks down at her small apron and sighs at the dampness clinging to her work clothes, "I saw her, but I didn't smell her. I should have, even with the rain."

"You know how Regina smells?"

Ruby laughs, her canines flashing in her smile, "I sadly know how everyone in this town smells. Some people I missed, some like Sneezy," she pauses, her eyebrows raising, "I did not."

"But the rain can change things, for tracking."

Ruby plugs in the patio lights, the white bulbs twinkling, "Yeah, but I can always smell Regina. I tracked her too much when we were over there."

Snow cocks her head in thought, how Ruby referred to the Enchanted Forest it always seemed like she was a soldier from a past war. Curiosity gets her to ask a question she never had before, "What does she smell like?"

"Horses," Ruby answers quickly, "sugar cubes, and clover, with a hint of apples. She still smells the same."

Snow finds a smile tugging at her cheeks, "She still rides?"

"Yeah," Ruby smiles back, "she still does."

Pulling out her chunky cellphone Snow scrolls through her address book, "Maybe Gold was wrong about Cora being back."

Ruby throws a dish towel over her shoulder, "Is she the only other shifter we know?"

"Besides Gold and Regina?"

Her hands rest on her hips and Ruby shakes her hair, "No, not Gold either, the Regina I saw smelled like the water and moss."

 

* * *

 

It is a pity, she thinks as she watches the friends interact outside of the diner. If only the wolf had focused more on her vision instead of her nose.

She had underestimated the closeness of Red Riding Hood to the Evil Queen. It seems when Ruby talked of Regina something else was at play.

It was new information, which needs to be mulled over; sampled and tasted. She quickly clucks her tongue on the roof of her mouth. The staccato note reverberating in the air.

She hopes the wolf hears it and knows someone is watching.

 

* * *

Emma pushes the door to the diner open, the buzz of people in the time between breakfast and lunch always makes Granny’s feel smaller.

“Girls!” Granny hollers as she eyes Emma, her slim body stretched out wide to protect her companion from the stink-eyes thrown from the booths, “Over here.” 

The hair frazzled out from the bun on her head reminds Emma of a crazed scientist on the edge of a breakthrough. She hopes it would be to the coconut cream pie.

With a flip of the dish towel already dusted with flour and dried spots of coffee, she makes a show of cleaning the counter, “Here you go.” 

“Thank you,” Regina offers quietly. She brushes her clothes and picks at invisible lint before sitting lightly on the stool.

Emma pulls the menu out from the conglomeration of napkins, mixed sugar and sweetener packets, and a second hand collection of toothpicks. She wonders for a moment if Pinocchio knew them and snorts.

“Yes?”

Emma brushes her hair off her shoulders and shakes her head, “Nothing I just told myself a bad joke.” 

“Oh?” Regina asks, “That is assuming you know good jokes too, right dear?”   
  
She looks to the left at the chalkboard scrawled upon with specials for the day. Some crossed out while others are smudged by a palm in a haphazard fixing of the spelling of quiche.

“Do you practice quips in the mirror or are you naturally like this?” Emma asks.

“Quick-witted?”

“Protective.”

Emma leans forward on the counter, putting her weight down on her elbows as she boxes the rest of the diner out, “I mean, I get it. I lived it. You hit with your fist or with your mouth.”

“I don’t attack with my mouth.”

Regina pulls a napkin out of the stack and folds it once, twice, before placing it on her lap.

“Oh, that’s not what Ruby said.” 

Emma rests her mouth on her fist and tries to fight off the smile or the desire to watch Regina’s face as she takes in that information.

“Excuse me?”

“Hmm?” Emma replies as if the Catch 22 breakfast plate was more interesting than the fire she just set.

The squeak of the stool let her know that Regina had turned toward her, a knee hitting hers lightly causing her legs to widen.

“How long have you been waiting to share that piece of knowledge?” Regina cooly asks.

Emma glances up, mischief in her eyes forgetting for a moment a killer was on the loose in favor of landing another blow.

“About a week after I got here, Ruby used to tell quite a story over late night coffee.”

The blush didn’t start at her cheeks, but instead creeped up Regina’s chest. “It was only the one time.”

Ruby slid into the picture with an order pad in hand, “What can I get you?” She looks back and forth between Emma and Regina before her eyes widen.

“You told her?”

“That’s what I was thinking Miss Lucas,” Regina pauses, “What?”

Emma laughs warmly, “I tricked you into confirming my suspicions.” Edging back off the stool she points to Ruby, “I’ll have the 22 Ruby, with a coffee.”

Regina watches as she motions behind her to the bathroom and nods.

 

* * *

 

At the end of the meal the diner has a few stragglers talking over their drinks about the weather and most certainly Archie’s folly. Eyes dart over to the forms huddled together on the counter before looking outside and resting at the animated Sheriff on her cellphone. Emma paced back and forth on a call with Doctor Whale on the pathology of the case.

Regina guesses Emma is not hearing what she had hoped for, as a hand curls into blonde hair before flying back into the air.

"I trapped myself in another tower with the curse." Regina states calmly, taking a sip of coffee. It is black and acidic, leaving a taste that begs to be joined by a cigarette.

"Storybrooke was a tower?" Ruby asks her hands wrap around her own mug.

"Of sorts. I was just as lonely," she smiles slowly as the heat of the drink seeps through the ceramic and into her hands. "But then there was Henry." Regina gazes into the mug as if looking for an answer in the murky depths. She glances back at Ruby with a shy grin, “And other moments.”

Ruby offers a kind smile as she leans forward, hair slipping out from behind her ear. The red streaks are present today promising a bit of mischief among the brown. "I get it." Ruby nods sagely.

A brittle laugh emits from Regina, "You're mistaken."

The cracks are present in everyone, Ruby thinks as she watches Regina and sees beyond the face of a Queen and the facade of a Mayor. In the moment she understands how Snow always forgave her a lifetime ago.

"You can try to cry wolf Regina, but I see it."

A mask tries to form on her face quickly, "See what?" Regina challenged.

Ruby's eyes drop giving her the time to stop her, to change the subject, but Regina is curious.

"She scares you."

It lingers in the air, almost gaining shape and form for Regina. She thought she had hid it well, but Little Red Riding Hood had always been an observant tracker. It seems she might be caught.

"She, who?"

The kindness in her eyes caused Regina's breath to catch. A pained smile spread slowly across Ruby's face as she moved her hand along the counter. The sure grip offered a strength Regina was unaware she needed. The fingers calloused from twenty-eight years cursed in a diner of dishes and a war before those, and somehow a promise of a shaky friendship in them as well.

"Emma."

 

* * *   
  


The sun was finally setting, littering the alley with hues of red, pinks, and more importantly shadows.

It would work well to take a dog out.

The gloves fit better now, the leather breathing a bit ready for the task. She watches as the back door pops open and Ruby hauls two bags of trash toward the bin.

“Miss Lucas?” the voice wafting through the air.

A grunt sounds as the trash bag arcs through the air into the bin, “Regina really, after today you’re going to be formal. How many heart to hearts does it take?”

She cocks her head and takes in how Ruby’s form changes. The feet widening, her shoulders drop as she bends over, arms coming up to protect herself. The wind must have changed.

“Who are you?”

It was almost a growl.

This one would be more fun, a struggle, a fight.

“I’m someone with a pure silver knife.”

The whites of her eyes flick up to see the streetlamp catch the glint of the knife as it is pulled out from under her coat. “I wasn’t sure if that old adage was true. Silver and werewolves you know.”

Ruby’s eyes glow for a moment as she bares her teeth, yes there was most certainly a growl now.

“I thought I’d just stick you with it repeatedly and see how it works out for you.”

The laugh bubbles out of her, “If anything I am going for a solid maiming.”

Ruby looks harder at her, trying to see if there is a shimmer of a spell, if the mannerisms told the story of someone she knew. This person, this thing looks and talks like Regina, but is someone else. 

“Are you Cora?” she asks as the attacker circles her. Ruby tries to keep her back against a wall limiting the ability for an ambush in case this killer doesn't work alone.

Another laugh, “Now, that would be so predictable wouldn’t it?”

She sees another glint as a pistol comes into view with her other hand, “Cora wasn’t able to cross space and time for her daughter, but I did.”

“And what does that make you?” Ruby asks, her eyes glowing yellow.

The impostor's lips purse together in thought, “I believe that would make me the winner.”

“You won’t win.”

“Oh, darling no, I will. I just care more.” This Regina sighs as if overwrought with disappointment.

The clucking of the tongue struck a memory inside Ruby, “You were here this morning.”

“Mmm,” she hums, “Yes, and a couple more before that too. See, you have to ask yourself now, right? Just which of me kissed your lips.”

“Not you.”

Ruby lunges forward as the gun fires. A howl and whimper echoes through the alley. Her body crumples on the ground as blood starts to pool around her wound.

Crouching down Regina runs the knife across Ruby’s face. The hiss as it burns along her cheek from the silver as the skin is lightly sliced open. Her yellow eyes still glowing as the moon peaks out from behind the clouds. The tip of the dagger pushes Ruby’s chin up to her as Regina places a soft kiss on her lips.

She edges back and licks at her own mouth, “But now I have.”

The coat flips out in a circle as she slips between the buildings toward the street.

Pity, she thought, not the fight she was looking forward to.


	3. Shattered Images

_Hospitals smell like death_. Emma thinks as she rubs at her nose, assaulted with an odor of antiseptics, bleach, and something else. It never matters how they try to cover it up. Hospitals still smell like death to her. 

The banal music piped in through tin-like speakers sounds like second-rate bands from the seventies; while the lighting buzzes along in an almost threatening manner. Fluorescent lights flicker on during her descent into the morgue, it makes her uneasy. It reminds her of high school nights huddled around a 13-inch television in the group home playing Silent Hill. 

Nurse Ratchet leads the way in her quaint uniform and coiffed hair and Emma chuckles to herself. The corridors, turns, and maze she is being led through is definitely Silent Hill. Ratchet gives her a withering stare as she pushes the heavy metal door open and Emma reassesses, or maybe American Horror Story.

Doctor Whale nods at her as she wanders in, “I’m assuming it's just the two of us.” 

Emma turns her watch back on her wrist and shrugs, “I called her and told her to meet us here.” 

He looks at her skeptically, “I think it’s a poor choice, but anything for revealing the answer to the ‘Did she do it’ question, yes?” 

His eyebrow quirks, nose turning up in a face that she can only attribute to the smell of formaldehyde and the even worse lighting as the Nurse closes the door behind them. 

“Is the hospital on the first round of face lifts?” Emma asks. She rubs at her arms, the leather jacket suddenly seems like it was not the best choice for a day in the morgue. 

“Well it was a gunshot that did it.” Whale pulls the sheet back and Emma gasps at the stark medical nature of the autopsy before her. She’d seen death sprawled out on the street before in her line of work, but it was different on a gurney, harsher in the light somehow with the traces of life scrubbed away. 

She points to the wounds one in the leg and the other at the head, “This doesn’t match the stains from the alley though, right?” She looks back at Whale as he nods in agreement. 

“The pools of blood behind Granny’s, in my medical opinion, do not match his wounds.” 

The door bangs open as Regina hurries into the room, “Is it really him?” 

Her hand covers her mouth as she takes in the pallid complexion of Sidney Glass. Emma can see tears start to work their way down her face. Regina turns to the nurse leaning against the door frame and points accusingly, “How did you let this happen?” 

Ratchet looks unfazed and takes a deep breath, “He checked himself out two weeks ago. He specifically stated he did not want anyone to know his choice to seek treatment elsewhere.” 

Regina’s face moves together in confusion, “From Archie?” 

“Did you discharge him?” she turns back to Dr. Whale.

“Regina,” he sighs heavily, seemingly beleaguered as always to answer questions about his profession. Emma notes he acts as if being a medical doctor of living humans was the worst possible career. He had seemed more content with Sidney when he was unable to talk back, perhaps Whale enjoyed the idea of eliminating the lies his patients told him or loved ones. 

He grasps the metal edge of the gurney and nods toward Sidney, “He checked himself in, presumably to get away from you and then checked himself out. I did not legally need to discharge the man.” 

Emma steps into their line of sight and holds up her hands in a peace offering, “Okay, let’s focus on what doesn’t add up. We have another murder, and another person with cause against you, Regina.” She tries to interject, and Emma raises a finger, silencing her, “but his body was moved. The gunshots do not match the blood found behind Granny’s.” 

“So the attacker was injured?” Whale surmises. 

Emma shakes her head, “Sadly no, I think we’re looking at a third vic. Apparently we’ve got a serial killer now.” 

“How convenient!’ Whale’s arms raise up before slapping against the metal slab, “You just happen to have a serial killer in your midst.” 

Regina looks back at Emma evenly, “You think that I did this?”

Emma shakes her head, her hands resting on her hips as she takes a deep breath, “No, but you’re the only true connection we have between the victims.” 

“What do we do?”

Emma motions for Regina to follow her uttering a thank you to Doctor Whale as they leave the morgue. She ghosts her hand behind Regina’s back until she feels her lean into her. Emma softly sets her hand against Regina’s hip allowing her to be cradled loosely. “We find the third victim.” 

“And how do we do that Emma?” 

She sounds tired, not ready for another fight, but Emma needs her to be ready by the time they reach the top of the stairs. Storybrooke has enough pitchforks and despot kings to start another witch hunt, and she needs Regina at the top of her game. 

“Ruby, she is the only person to have seen you, well not you,” Emma smiled jostling Regina against her, “and she’s the best bloodhound we’ve got.” 

* * * 

“What do you mean Ruby’s missing?” 

Emma nods twice before ending the call and tossing the phone dejectedly between them, “Well, she’s missing.” 

“I heard,” Regina looks out the window, “are you coming to the conclusion that I am?” 

“No.” Emma answers quickly. 

“Emma.” 

“No.” 

“Emma!” 

Regina is opening the door and sprinting across the hospital parking lot, heels clacking against the asphalt when Emma sees her. 

“Holy shit.” 

Emma opens her door and yells at the nearby paramedics on break, “Get a stretcher or something, GSW incoming on foot!”

She gets to them as Regina’s small frame tries to support Ruby who is wheezing with blood dried on her mouth. A nasty red line is cut along her face. Her soiled shirt used to be white, but is now mottled with dirt, rocks, and dried deep red blood. 

“Ruby, what happened?” 

Ruby winces, “Bitch went cheap on her bullets or someone fucking lied to her.” 

“How are you even walking?” Emma asks astounded. She throws an arm around Ruby, grasping onto Regina’s bicep to create a cradle as both women support Ruby. The trio hobbles toward the emergency entrance. 

“Had to move,” Ruby swallows, her tongue darting out as she licks at her parched lips, “I felt like she was the type to come back and gloat, really savor the kills.” 

Emma, in shock, nods mindlessly. 

“I’m thinking Ruby was able to shift to wolf form and metaphorically lick her wounds.” Regina supplies as she places her hand over the wound still seeping slowly, “May I?” 

Ruby shakes her head, “No, we need that and I don’t want your magic to leave a trace. She looks like you, don’t need to stack up the evidence on your plate.” 

She’s right, Emma realizes, factoring in magic and what it can do to evidence. She’ll most likely need to re-think how to approach investigations from now on. 

“Okay, but Ruby?” 

“Yeah,” Ruby asks as the stretcher reaches them finally, “Don’t die, okay?” 

“Shit Emma,” Ruby calls out as they put her on the stretcher, “that’s almost the kiss of death itself.” 

She laughs for a moment and looks at both of them, “Sorry, I just realized I already outlived one kiss of death, might as well outlive two.” 

* * * 

“I cannot believe you are defending her again.”

Emma can hear Snow’s voice reverberating into the hallway and she deflates, curling up into a bucket seat. 

She glances over at Regina’s rigid form on the olive green chair, the height of fashion at the quarter century of never. She looks down at her feet. Her fingers pluck at the burnt orange fabric of her chair, before peering back at the olive green. She cringes, especially if those colors were together. 

“The curse was in the eighties right?” 

It was as if Emma had put smelling salts under Regina’s nose with her words. The woman clutches at a paper cup with what must now be lukewarm coffee in her hand. 

“The curse,” she repeats, “you cast it when it was the eighties, right?” 

Regina’s hair flips toward Emma as she takes in a long look trying to ascertain what Emma could be getting to, “Yes, it was during this world’s 1983.” 

“And these chairs were _still_ in style?” 

Regina crosses her free arm over her stomach, “I don’t see why mocking me is of importance as you allow your mother to badger our only eyewitness.” 

An eyebrow arches on Emma’s face as she takes in Regina’s questioning stare before she throws her arm in the air, “Oh, what now? What could I possibly have done now? Committed a fashion faux pas as bad as pleather jackets?”

Emma forefinger snaps out quickly, “First, they are leather. My jackets are leather.” 

She watches as Regina huffs lightly before taking a drink out of the coffee cup. Her nose wrinkles up in disgust as she peers into the cup. It must now be what Sleepy refers to as the 'lukewarm sludge' phase of hospital coffee. 

Emma continues, “Second, I’m allowing Snow to get it out of her system so when she’s done we don’t have to hear it.” 

“So basically,” Regina leans toward her. Her voice drifting through the lobby, “you’re making Ruby take the brunt of it because you’re scared of your mother.” 

Doctor Whale pokes his head out from the recovery room, “We could really use you both in here right now.”

They rose quickly from the chairs and Regina tosses the coffee cup in the nearest trash can as they edge into the room. 

“What’s happening? Is everything okay?” Emma asks moving swiftly to stand at Ruby’s bedside and taking her hand. 

Ruby nods and uses her head to motion to Snow on the other side of the bed. 

“So, if this isn’t Regina as Ruby swears it isn’t.” 

Both women jump in, “It’s not.” 

Emma smiles tightly at Regina and then moves her eyeline back to Ruby. She looks pale, but better than her impression of a zombie from earlier. 

“Then,” Snow adds pulling focus to her, “we need to figure out who it is before someone else is killed.” 

A light knock on the door sounds and David eases in with a folder in his hands, “Hey, I got the ballistics back and it’s the same gun used on Ruby as it was on Sidney.” 

Regina gapes at David, her eyes squinting in disbelief, “How could you possibly have a report from a bullet comparison that you only recieved an hour ago?” 

His eyes narrow to prepare for the yell he knew would come from each woman, “I had Gold run a magic trace on them. Honestly much cheaper than a rush job to a lab out of town.” 

“And he cared to do this out of the goodness of his own scaly heart?” Regina replies. 

Snow shook her head, “No, if someone is killing people that have been of counsel to Regina he probably thinks he’s next on the list.” 

“It works, I guess.” Emma sighs as she thinks through her mother’s words before pushing on, “You know, it’s not just counsel.” 

“It’s people who care for Regina.” Charming ventures. 

Regina’s arms wrap around her waist again, hugging herself, “That takes us back to the same suspect then, my mother. A shifter who destroys everything I love… it’s either my mother or myself.” 

A pained breath from Ruby reverberates through the room as she shifts in the bed, “No, she’s definitely someone else.” 

“Is she even a she?” 

Emma nods, “David’s got a good point, we don’t know anything about the killer other than their ability to shift into Regina’s form.” 

“Wait,” Ruby holds up her hand, “they said Cora couldn’t cross time and space for Regina, but they did.” 

Emma’s mouth pops open in thought, she rubs at her chin trying to work out the words, “Okay, so the killer believes they are doing this for Regina.” 

“Killing my therapist, my old confidant, and my” Regina trailed off as she looked at Ruby. 

Ruby smile is off-kilter, “old fling?” 

“No,” Emma shakes her head as they both look at her in question, “I mean yes, but you knew the killer wasn’t Regina.” 

David lets out a burst of air with a startled noise of understanding, “The killer was going after people Regina trusted and opened up to, people she loved.” 

“I did not love Archie.” 

Emma shook her hands in the air, “No, but you confided in him. You were working to be better with him.” 

“Sidney still doesn’t make sense then, I hadn’t spoken to him in over a month.” 

Emma turns on her heel and leans on Ruby’s bed, sitting easily on top of the covers. “So he must have known the identity of the killer. Archie would know it’s not you if he talked to the killer, but they silenced him. They tried to take Ruby’s life because she could smell it wasn’t you and-” 

“Sidney would be able to see it wasn’t me.” Regina nods before she looks back at Emma with deep concern. 

“Where is Henry?” 

Emma pops to her feet and bolts from the room followed quickly by Regina and David. 

“Do you really think they would go after a child?”

Snow implores Ruby to give her another answer, “I think they would do anything to have Regina to themselves.” 

* * * 

“But where are we going Mom?” 

Her arm wrapped around his shoulders, “Emma and David said I could hang out with you this afternoon while they were caring for Miss Lucas.” 

His head bobs back and forth on his neck with the weight of embarrassment she sometimes makes him feel, “Just call her Ruby, for once please.” 

“Very well, caring for Ruby. I hear she had quite a nasty accident.” She plucked at the lint on his coat as she shuttled him along on the path toward the forest.

“Where are we going?” 

“Do you remember the brook we used to go to, it had the stones covered in moss and you and I would climb on them playing explorers?” 

He nods softly at the memories. They would spend hours outside and she would play make-believe with him from any history story they read. One year he was convinced that the moss covered rocks and stream were alive. He knew his reflection would sometimes wink at him.

His mom would get quiet then for a moment and ask him if he really did see his reflection talk back to him. She was so serious he wondered at night if it was his imagination or reality. 

But then Mary Margaret had given him the storybook.

He sighed, “Yeah, but it’s cold and can’t we just go home?” 

“Yes,” she called out dropping a kiss to the crown of his head before brushing his hair out of his face, “soon. We’ll go home soon.”


	4. Narcissists Make the Worst Deputies

Charming pounds on the heavy oak door as Emma reaches out for Regina’s hand blindly.

“He’s going to be okay. If anyone would be able to figure it out it’d be,” the door opens and he swings a leg widely across the threshold before his hip pops out. 

Jefferson’s finger taps on his lips in thought, “Well this is a problem then.” 

“Where is Henry?” Regina asks quickly, her hand squeezed lightly by Emma as she tries to ground her. 

A coquettish smile peaks out across Jefferson’s face, “I was going to say with you, but since that’s obviously wrong now. I’m going to say with a shifter.” 

Charming brandishes his broad sword toward the not-quite hinged Hatter, “Where did they go?” 

His eyes narrow in thought before the wind lifts his pompadour hairstyle giving him the theatrics he always craves. “She was a really good you, Regina.” 

“How good?” Regina steps forward dropping Emma’s hand. 

Regina’s voice seems to hold knowledge Emma hopes to soon be shared with the group, whom with each moment passing feels more like the Storybrooke version of the clueless Keystone Cops. 

She knows they both had traveled through dimensions together with Jefferson’s hat before he landed in Wonderland and until Regina pulled him back into her world. 

“Did you two,” she stops immediately choosing to rephrase her question, “when did you two meet a shifter.” 

Jefferson leans against his doorframe, his foot sliding along the ground before kicking it over his other. She thinks for a moment that perhaps he was the Chesire cat too with his grinning. 

“She was more than that, wasn’t she Regina.” He draws out her name creating a taunting slur that she reacts to, stuffing her hands into her coat pockets.

Regina shakes her head, “She was trapped in the water as a mere reflection.”

He nods, “So was our good pal Sidney, but the police scanner said he only reflects the shiny metal of the morgue now a days.” 

“Did you help her?” Emma encroaches on him. 

He pushes back at her shoulders, “Whoa there Sheriff. I did nothing of the sort. I just merely thought that Regina had locked Echo away.” 

“Echo?” 

Father and daughter ask together as Jefferson laughs, tickled as they still were not there.. 

“I don’t remember a fairytale with and an Echo.” Emma replies as she glances back at Regina, now sitting on the stoop of Jefferson’s house looking out at the trees.

“She’s a myth. Greek or Roman, depending on the books you read in this world.” 

Regina’s answer was quiet, which brought dread into Emma’s heart. 

She rolls her shoulders trying to shrug the feeling off as she crouches down by Regina’s side, “Okay, so how do we stop her?” 

A cough is followed by a clearing of the throat as Jefferson tugs on his scarf, “Now that she’s out and about again? I’m thinking a sword through the chest region would be best.” 

“Regina, why did she take Henry?” 

She turns to Emma and her eyes are filled with unshed tears, “She removes all who love you from your side through deceit, murder, by any means necessary. So you are left alone with only her whispering to you for eternity.” 

A tear escapes, falling down her cheek before Emma catches it, her thumb brushing over Regina’s face as she smiles. “You both defeated her before, we’ll do it again.” 

“I tricked her before. I had Sidney enchant a mirror with my image. It held hours together, sort of looped day in my movements for her to see. To placate her.” 

Jefferson nods from behind them, “It was really effective because I will say, a toga is not my best look. We needed a way out.” 

“Wait,” Charming steps forward, his eyes closing shut tightly as his thumb rubs at his temples in confusion, “You both were in Ancient Greece?” 

“No,” Jefferson rolls his eyes dramatically, “we were in the land the Greeks wrote about, obviously that sort of magic doesn’t reside in this world.” 

He pauses for a moment before placing his hands on his hips, “Or does it, Regina?” 

She wets her lips and moves away from Emma’s touch, “Not in the sense of Gods coming down from above with lightning bolts, at least not at this time.”

“So then,” David’s voice soft and kind carried on, “why does she have an interest in you?” 

Emma nods to herself, “Because she thinks she is in love with her… the fairest of them all.”

“But wait,” Charming’s palm rests on the hilt of his sword, “I thought Narcissus was a man.” 

Jefferson pushes off of the door jamb and smiles, “Well that may have been my doing at first, but then Echo saw Regina and Narcissus turned into Narcissa.” 

He chuckles to himself, “Like Harry Potter.” 

Three gazes leveled on him and he stepped back to the house, “Or not at all. So, that’s all I know. Have fun taming the little nymph.” 

The door clicks shut and David sighs to himself, “So Jefferson’s a poor choice of childcare.” 

“No, we believe our eyes more than our other senses. It’s not his fault.” Regina pushes up off of the stoop and brushes at her skirt. “Although I would have loved for it to have been so simple.” 

Emma’s hand rests on Regina’s shoulder, “So where are they?” 

“I have a good guess. I think she’s been there for years.” 

David jogs after the two women toward his truck knowing this battle is beyond his ken. 

* * * 

Henry watches her, the movements a bit stiff and her speech seems to halt. The conversation is circular as if she only remembers the times they spent along the babbling brook, as if his mother is looping through a greatest memory album.

“Mom?” he asks and she hums lightly letting him know she’s listening. Her fingers are dipping into the water. It looks like she’s playing a harp, plucking at keys along the surface. “This may sound silly.” 

He feels pinpricks along his neck, a sense of danger that he has never sensed around her before.

“Do you remember when I told you, I was really little,” he scaled a rock, and then another getting distance from her. 

“Yes, Henry?” she asks as her hair seems to grow longer, but he wonders if it is just his current perspective.

He hops to another rock still and wobbles gaining balance after a moment or two, “I used to lay by the water and I told you my reflection.”

She leans toward his voice now, soaking in the memory, her hands dripping with the water from the stream, “Yes?” 

“My reflection would wink at me and sometimes the mouth would move like it was talking to me.” 

She smiles openly, “I was.” 

His face grows dark, “What have you done with my mother?” 

“Oh,” she raises her eyebrows as the vision of Regina filters away. 

Blonde hair with a soft curl grows longer replacing the dark locks of his mother. The well-manicured clothes give way to dark jeans and boots with a grey tank top hanging loosely off the frame. 

Henry’s jaw gapes widely as he watches the transformation before him. 

“Do you prefer this one instead?” she asks smiling with a finishing touch as the deep brown eyes brighten to hazel. “Regina does too.” 

* * * 

Regina kicks off her heels and takes the offered flats, a left over from Snow, from the bed of the truck. 

“One thing to know about shifters and Echo in particular,” Regina catches their line of sight as Emma checks her pistol before hosterling it, “they watch and they wait until they’re confident they will win.” 

Regina looks at them both, “do not engage with either of them. Stay close to one another, touching if you are able.” 

“And you?” Emma asks walking after Regina as David shrugs on his shoulder holster. 

Her hand slips into Regina’s and she pulls her back to her, “Regina, don’t do something brave and stupid, okay?” 

Regina laughs, “Is this the do what I say and not what I do pep talk?” 

She tries to head toward the tree line as Emma yanks her back, their chests bumping together. Breath mingling, “No, I just got back here to you.” 

There is a short pause, but it feels longer and more meaningful, “Both of you,” Emma tries to correct to make the moment not as charged.

Regina smiles, “I know what you mean.” 

Her hand closes around Emma’s hip and she edges up on her toes to place a light kiss on Emma’s cheek. She pulls back with a watery grin, “I know exactly what you mean Emma.” 

* * * 

Henry can hear them crashing through the forest before he sees them. “I’m here!” he yells loudly his voice cracking as he tries to increase the power. The dampness of the area starts to seep into his socks making his footing less sure. 

“She looks like-” but then the woman is behind him covering his mouth. She hushes him with soft murmurs. 

He is not sure if her movements were swift because of his distraction or if this part of the woods held more power for her. 

“Henry!” his name booms through the brush in three different directions. 

He looks over his shoulder at this other mother and grins, “My family is coming for me.” 

She smiles and he sees the predator underneath the skin. She had waited years for this moment. “I nearly pulled you under when you were three, but I realized I needed you to be with Regina.” 

The blonde hair flicks back as she smiles again, “but mostly I have to look like Emma.” 

He frowns in confusion, “Why?” 

“Is it not obvious little Mills?” She edges closer to him her lips touching his ear, “It is because your mother loves her,” Echo’s voice switches back to Regina’s as she whispers the next part to him, “even more than you.” 

“Liar!” he yells and pushes against her as they topple from the rocks. 

The trio of would-be saviors break into the clearing and Emma runs toward the mess of limbs and hair. 

“Emma, no!” Regina reaches out to try and stop her, but it’s too late. 

Regina searches for Henry first, and as he pops up her eyes fall on now two identical Emmas facing one another, Echo having had just enough time to mimic Emma perfectly. 

One mutters “Holy shit,” as a fist connects with her face. The crack sending her head back, it snaps turning her to the ground. 

Regina’s arm curls around David’s as he squares his body on the assailant, “Wait. We have to be sure.” 

“How can we be sure?” 

“Easy, just wait to see which Emma infuriates me first.” Regina’s fingers stretch and a fireball floats in the air. 

“Henry, I’ll hope you will forgive me,” she holds her pose as both Emmas draw guns. She smiles widely as she watches the stances and can see the error so blatant she is not sure why David has not hurled his sword. 

She catches his glance and whispers, “Echo can only mirror. The Emma who is left handed? That’s the imposter.” 

Her arm raises, the ball flashing and moving above her palm until she releases it. 

Charming moves for a counter defense circling toward Henry and waving for him to get behind. 

“Now, now Regina,” a singed Emma raises herself fully and the image shudders. “You tricked me once, but you belong with me. I loved you first. I’ve loved you best. I love you more than this lesser woman could ever try to.” 

“Love?” Regina questions as she approaches Echo, “killing people in the name of love?”  
Echo tilts her head in a naive question, “you did it for years Regina.” 

Her mouth opens in horror, Echo had found a way to follow her, to see the terror she bestowed upon innocents in the name of revenge. 

Behind them David and Emma gathered Henry and fled to the path, they were alone now.

“That was not love Echo. I lost the ability to love during that time, those killings were out of pain and loneliness.” 

The nymph’s mask fell and Regina saw her tawny hair littered with pieces of clover, peonies, and baby’s breath. “Why didn’t you stay with me?” 

She cupped Echo’s cheek and her smile broke, “I wasn’t beautiful then, but I’m beginning to be now.” Her arm wrapped around Echo as she pulled into a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry Echo. You deserved better.” 

The whisper of her breath flitted against Regina’s ear as she plunged the dagger into her heart. The women dropped to their knees and she could feel Echo’s tears hitting her shoulder. 

“Stay with me?” Echo requests. 

Regina tries to smile as she cries for them both, “Until the end.” 

“Until the end.” 

She picked flowers from around the brook and made a bouquet to place in Echo’s hands before leaving the clearing. Brushing her hands along her hair she wonders if the past will ever let her move forward or if Regina had hurt so much and so wildly across worlds and times that reminders would always haunt her. 

In the whispers of the wind. 

In the babbling of the broke. 

In the truth of the echo.


	5. Epilogue - Who's Afraid of Regina Mills

Her hands brush down her dress and she glances in the mirror to calculate if the make-up accentuates her hair with just the right tone. She’s trying for simple elegance with a touch of surprise.

“Coming!” she calls down the entryway as her feet slip into the red heels. 

Pulling back the door she smiles widely as Regina’s eyes widen in shock, “I thought you said we were going to the diner.” 

Her arms suddenly cross over her stomach and Emma reaches for her hands to tug her into the foray of her new parent-free apartment. Regina watches as she scampers off snatching a clutch from the side table before bouncing on heels. 

Emma smiles widely at her, dimples peeking through as her tongue runs along the edge of her teeth, “I did.”

“I came from work. I’m just wearing a suit, a day old suit mind you.” Regina fluffs the edges of her hair and takes a deep breath, “And you’re looking like... you look.” 

Her head dips down catching Regina’s eyes, “I look?” 

“Ah,” Regina arches an eyebrow, “fishing for compliments?” 

Emma laughs, “More like syllables that form a complete sentence.” 

“This is new,” Regina tilts her head up a blush forming, “for me.” 

She reaches for Emma’s hand and tries again, “And you’re looking amazing. How am I supposed to compete?” 

“You pretty much already won the first four days of the week so I’m taking this one even if I have to cheat to get it.” Emma leans forward and claims Regina’s lips in a soft kiss. 

Regina sighs into the kiss before nuzzling lightly into Emma’s shoulder, “Have you not heard the old adage Emma? Cheaters never win.” 

“That’s wrong, it’s actually cheaters never prosper.” Emma smiles again as the warm laughter rumbles in Regina’s chest. She pulls her in for a hug before she sways back and forth lightly. 

Regina leans back to see the mischief in Emma’s eyes, “You do know those words mean the same thing, right?” 

Emma shakes her head in disagreement, “Yeah, no, they’re very different. Just like the words merry, marry, and Mary.” 

“I still don’t hear the difference.” 

A deep sigh of faked frustration escapes Emma, “All of these years on the Eastern seaboard and you still talk like a yokel from fairytale land. I’m not sure how I ended up with you.” 

“A curse?” Regina offers. 

Emma drops a kiss on her lips and pulls back, “Nope.” 

“Attempts on our life?” 

Emma shakes her head again, “That’s like a weekly thing, nah.” 

“A shared interest in games?” 

“No,” Emma screws her lips up in thought, “that’s Henry, that’s why I love Henry.” 

Regina’s eyes widen as she leans in closer, “It must be love then.” 

“That,” Emma nods as she glances down at Regina’s suit, the white shirt straining at the buttons and the black blazer cut to accentuate, “and the business wear.” 

The loud smack of an open palm hitting her bicep sounds in the entryway, “But mostly the love thing I guess.” 

Regina smiles widely, “I love you.” 

“I love you too Regina,” Emma moves in for another peck as she smiles, “until the end.” 

Her hand pushes on Emma’s chest and her eyes widen in shock, “What did you say?” 

“I love you too?” Emma sighs, her shoulders drop and she asks, “did you hear her?” 

Regina shakes her head, “No, no it was just a long day.” 

Most days were good, actually nearly all days were good, but Emma could see the times she would float away in memories. Serving penance for things she would not dare to change as the past brought her Henry and in some ways Emma. 

They had fought monsters, demons, dragons, princesses from afar, and even each other. 

At times she wondered if Echo was still alive somehow, a ghost on the wind, or if maybe Regina Mills' greatest fear was herself. 

Even if that was true Emma would still fight for her until most days became all days, because she knew Regina would as well. They match each other in stubbornness, courage, and how deeply they love. 

Echo had crossed space and time for Regina, but Emma knew she would always win because after all, cheaters never prosper.


End file.
